Creature Feature
by Anya2
Summary: When a number of deadly creatures are used as murder weapons, Mark puts his own life in danger as he gets closer to the truth...PART TWO ADDED!!!
1. Part One

Author's Note: This is a follow on story from 'Accident's Do Happen', which is also on the site if you want to read it. It's not vital that you do though. All you need to know is that Eliza Harvey is an ER doctor who was falsely accused of murder by the gang, but has since been persuaded to stay at Community General. I try to write my stories in the style and format of the show, so I hope you enjoy it and please tell me what you think!

Mark walked through the corridors of Community General, humming _'I've Got You Under My Skin' _cheerfully to himself. It summed up the way he felt about this place really. His life was so intrinsically involved with the hospital, the medical profession and his work, that he hated to think what he'd do when he finally retired. Not that he ever thought about retiring. That was one of the few things in this world that actually put a knot in his stomach and he intended to put it off as long as possible. Fortunately for him, his employers recognised his worth to the hospital and hadn't seriously brought it up yet. But they would one day, and when they did he was going to make it perfectly clear that Mark Sloan was going nowhere without a fight.

He entered the pathology lab in a buoyant mood to find Amanda up to her elbows in an autopsy. 

Literally.

The guy had been found dead in his apartment the night before when the landlord, fed up with him not paying his rent, had broken in. By the looks of him he'd been dead at least a week. The circumstances didn't appear suspicious, but an autopsy was required to establish the means of death.

The doctors' lounge was being painted today and was consequently out of action. Even so, Mark was a little surprised to find Steve, Jesse and Eliza sitting quietly around the table all engrossed in their own paperwork. Ellie was munching on a sandwich as she worked.

Steve looked up his entrance, "Hey, dad. Come to join us?"

"No actually," Mark said looking a little perplexed, "I didn't really expect to find you here."

Jesse simply shrugged. "It was the only quiet place we could find," he explained.

"Well, it was quiet until you three got here," Amanda snapped, pausing the tape she was trying to record her report on, "Shh!"

'Sorry' Steve mouthed, wearing a look Mark recognised from when he'd scolded him as a child. That made him smile slightly.

"So," he said as he crossed over to them, speaking quietly so as not to disturb Amanda, "Did she find anything yet?"

"Looks like natural causes," Steve said with a small nod, "But you know Amanda. She likes to be thorough."

"Shh!"

"Sorry," Mark and Steve chorused together.

Amanda glared at them in warning before turning back to her work.

Ellie took another bite of her sandwich and Steve shot her a frown, shaking his head, "How can you eat when she's pulling some guy apart over there?"

"I'm hungry," Ellie said, shrugging, "It's only a bit of blood."

"No," Steve said, "It's a lot of blood. And some guy's entrails."

"Just doesn't gross me out," she explained, "Never did really. We all have them."

"Yeah but we don't all have them on display while other people are having lunch," Steve reasoned, before a smile broke out, "Now, Jesse eating through anything I can understand. The only way of stopping him would be to sew his mouth up. Although you'd probably still find him trying to push fries up his nose."

"Hey!" Jesse protested.

"Right," Amanda stated firmly, her patience having finally worn thin, "Out. All of you. Now." She wore a no nonsense look on her face and came over to shoo them away.

The four of them quickly gathered up their things and fled outside.

"Damn," Jesse said shaking his head, "Sometimes she's so like a mom it's scary."

Arriving at the nurses' station and depositing their own paper work, each found a spare couple of inches of desk and a stool to perch on.

"You know," Mark prompted with a small smile, "None of you asked me what I wanted."

"What did you want?" they asked in perfect unison, none of them looking up from their work.

He chuckled. "It's about Amanda's birthday."

This got their attention.

"It's on Saturday, right?" Jesse said, chewing on the end of his pen, "What are we going to do?"

"Well," Mark said, "I was thinking about doing dinner at the beach house, just me and Steve, you, Ellie if she's free-"

"Sure," she said brightly.

Mark smiled, glad. "I thought if we have it at home then she can bring CJ and Dion too."

"That's a great idea, Mark," Jesse said with a typically enthused smile. He loved Amanda's two children. At heart he was a bit of a big kid himself and spending time with them certainly allowed that side to come out. He appeared about to say something else, but suddenly his face fell and he let out a small gasp before ducking out of sight behind the desk.

Mark and Steve shared a perplexed glance. Steve was about to make a comment about Jesse needing to hide from all his ex-girlfriends when one of the nurses reached the desk.

. "Ah, Dr Harvey," she said, "I was looking for one of you. Could you come and take a look at the boy in six? He fell and hurt his ankle. I think it's just a sprain but you'd better check it over."

"Yeah, Becky, I can," Ellie said, repressing the sigh. She gave Jesse a swift kick as she passed him. "I hate you," she said, scowling.

Both of them had been whinging all morning about how far behind in the paperwork they had gotten and how it was going to take all day to catch up. It had been fortunately quiet, but even so they had palmed off things on each other at every opportunity. For this, Ellie was going to make sure he got the next unpleasant case that came in. Projectile vomiting would be nice. Maybe she'd get lucky and someone would actually eat the canteen food. Someone apart from Steve of course who was apparently and miraculously immune to its unpleasant side effects. 

She entered the room to find an eight year old boy sitting on the bed.

"Hi, Simon," she said, consulting the chart the nurse had handed her, "I'm Ellie. I'm gonna take a quick look at the ankle you've hurt, to see if I can figure out what you've done, okay?"

"Are you a doctor?" asked a blonde girl who was standing worriedly to one side.

Ellie smiled at her. She looked quite young.

"Yes am I. Are you his sister?"

She shook her head, "No. Babysitter."

Ellie nodded. She should've guessed. Her nervous expression gave it away.

"Have you phoned his parents?"

"I tried," the girl said, clearly feeling bad about what had happened, "But I couldn't get through."

"Tell you what," Ellie said with a reassuring smile, "Why don't you try again? You can use the phone at the desk. Becky here will show you."

The nurse took her by the shoulder, leading the girl out, "Don't worry, honey. He'll be just fine."

"So," Ellie said, standing over Simon once they'd gone, "What did you do?"

"I fell off the wall in the back garden," he said, a little embarrassed.

"And I take it you weren't meant to be up there," she realised, trying not to sound too preachy.

He shook his head, "No, but I was trying to escape from General Nasty's troops."

"Oh," she mouthed with a slight smirk, "So you were injured in the line of duty. Your commanding officer will be so proud."

"I _am _the commanding officer," he protested.

"Of course you are. My mistake," she soothed, checking his ankle over.

"Well, it doesn't look or feel broken," she said after a few moments, "But I'd like to do an x-ray just to make sure. That's a picture of your bones. Is that okay?"

Simon thought about this, trying to decide whether it was or not. "Would it be okay if Murray comes in with me?" he asked eventually, with pleading eyes.

Ellie looked puzzled. Murray? Surely that couldn't be the babysitter....

"Who's Murray?" she asked, writing down the x-ray request on his chart.

"He my friend," the boy said eagerly, "Here, he's in his box. Wanna look?"

---

"So what are we gonna get Amanda for her birthday?" Steve asked with a small frown as he tapped his pen against the desk. He found it hard enough to buy presents for his own father let alone women, who's tastes he had never really understood.

"We could get her a puppy," Jesse suggested enthusiastically, "She was just saying the other day how much she'd loved having a dog when she was little."

Mark smiled, but shook his head, "Jesse, Amanda's a single mother with two small children. I don't think we need to burden her with a dog as well."

"How about jewellery?" Steve suggested.

"Or perfume?" Jesse added.

Becky smiled as she passed them, leading the babysitter to the phone. "Gee, and they say men have no originality," she commented rather sarcastically.

"How's the boy?" Mark asked her, countering Steve and Jesse's rather affronted looks 

"Oh, he's fine," she said with a wave of her hand, "Ellie's just checking him over now. Doesn't appear to be any prob-"

An loud female cry of alarm drowned out the rest of her sentence.

Mark, Steve and Jesse immediately shared worried looks before running round the corner to see what had happened.

As they got to room six where the noise seemed to have come from, Steve ran straight into Ellie, who immediately shrieked.

"Oh my God!" she rushed, standing stock still with her eyes squeezed tight shut, holding her arms out as if afraid to move, "It's not on me, right? Tell me it's not on me!"

Steve frowned puzzled, "What's not on you?"

Ellie seemingly didn't hear him however.

"I mean why on earth keep it as a pet? You don't keep them, you kill. All of them," she panicked, not pausing for breath, "Even if you can forget about the horrible creepy legs and the furry body, it's looking at you with eight damn eyes! Why does anything need that many eyes? Tell me, what does it need to see in multiples of eight?"

"You saw a spider," Mark realised. He tried not to laugh because poor Ellie was clearly quite petrified, but considering that no amount of blood and guts disturbed her the fact that she was terrified of spiders was more than a little amusing.

"Oh, no," she ranted, "It wasn't just 'a spider'. It was a damn tarantula!"

"Is she okay?" asked a voice from behind as the boy hobbled to the door, "I just wanted to show her Murray." He looked at her with some derision, "I didn't realise she was such a 'girlie-girl'."

"I am not a 'girlie-girl'", Ellie defended indignantly before turning back to the others, with a near hysterical tone. "Seriously guys, it was the size my hand and it's legs were bigger than my fingers. And it was all hairy and crawl and...." she went a little paler, and gave them a pleading look, "It's not on me, is it?"

"No," Mark said gently, "It's not. Now why don't I finish off with the ankle and you go and get some coffee."

"Yeah," Jesse said, taking her by the shoulders and leading her away, "Let's get a nice calming cup of coffee."

"I think I'm gonna pass out," Ellie said miserably.

Jesse raised an eyebrow, "And possibly some vallium."

---

Wilson Packard had never considered himself either paranoid or unreasonable. He was a man of science. Had been so for forty years up until his retirement two years ago. Fact, sense and truth had been his constant companions his whole life and he was not about to abandon them so easily now.

And yet he was sure he was being followed.

Although why anyone would want to follow a sixty year old former head of a medical research company was beyond him.

Entering his study, still struck by the feeling that someone was there - or at least had been - he sat himself cautiously in his desk chair and glanced about the room with a frown. Something wasn't right. A tingling up the back of his neck disturbed him and he couldn't put his finger on the cause of it.

He momentarily reached for the phone but paused before dismissing the idea. Who would he call? The police?

__

'Yes, officer I'd like to report this funny feeling I have...'

He didn't think so...

Physically trying to shake the feeling away, he decided to write some letters he had been meaning to get on with. As he reached for the drawer he looked at the photo on his desk. The guys in it had been his colleagues at his research lab. At the time he wouldn't have considered them friends, but reflection was a funny thing. It made you look at stuff differently.

He'd call them tomorrow, see how they were doing.

Pulling at the desk drawer, he was slightly irritated to find it stuck. Realising something must have gotten caught, he reached his hand inside to see if he could loosen whatever it was.

Fumbling blindly about, his fingers couldn't feel anything so he moved them other towards the mechanism. As he did so, he brushed something smooth and hard. He frowned, but his moment of confusion and wondering was cut off as he was struck by numerous stabbing needles.

Yanking his hand firmly from the drawer he swung it in the air, cursing loudly in pain. Examining the hand, which was now burning in agony, he frowned to see numerous small puncture marks, the skin around them already begin to swell.

"What the...?" he whispered quietly to himself.

Remembering he had a first aid kit in the bathroom he decided he'd better go and put something on it. It was really painful.

He only managed to take one pace though before he pitched forward onto his hands and knees. What was happening to him? He felt terrible. It was like his throat was closing up and he was beginning to struggle to breathe.

As a pain in his chest began, he wondered if he was having a heart attack.

Panicking now, his breathing getting harder and harder, Wilson Packard tried to pull himself to get to the phone. He had to get help. But his oxygen starved body didn't have the energy left to respond and he slumped back forward onto the carpet.

---

Mark stood to one side as the EMT's exited the room, talking quietly to one another. As he entered he saw Amanda looking over the body on the floor while Steve was talking to a uniformed officer and a guy with 'animal control' written on his jacket.

"Steve," he said, as he walked up to them, "I got your message. What happened?"

"They did," Steve said grimly, pointing to the two boxes now sitting on the desk. Both contained a couple of seriously nasty looking scorpions. Yellow in colour and about ten centimetres long, they were clacking their pinchers and swinging their tails in a seemingly irritated manner.

"Oh my," Mark whispered in surprise, crouching down in front of them and peering inside. As he did so they attacked the clear plastic separating them from his face. "Aggressive little things, aren't they?" he commented.

"Very," the animal control officer said. "I've been doing this job for ten years and I've never seen anything like it. You get the occasional scorpion that people accidentally bring back in their luggage, but never this many. And I've never seen this species either."

"Who found him?" Mark asked, standing up once more.

"The gardener saw the body through the window," Steve answered, "and he called us. Officer Scott here was first on the scene."

"You were lucky you didn't get stung too," Mark said, a little wide eyed at the young female officer.

She smiled slightly, "I grew up in the desert and I've seen plenty of scorpion stings. When I saw the way he was laying I realised he must having fallen as he was getting up from the desk, and as I walked over there I heard them moving about in the drawer."

"She's good," Mark chuckled slightly, "You'd better watch your back, Steve. She'll be after your job."

Steve shot him a dry look, but curbed his comment in favour of listening to Amanda as she joined them.

"Well, the cause of death is pretty obvious," she said, glancing at the scorpions as the animal control officer carried them out with the help of Officer Scott, "But I'm gonna get his body delivered to the path lab so I can take a closer look. Do we know who he was?"

Steve nodded holding out a wallet to his dad, "Wilson Packard. Retired former head of a medical research company. According to the gardener, he was a nice, friendly, generous guy with no known enemies."

Mark flicked through the wallet's contents, nodding at what Steve was saying. "Have you contacted his next of kin?"

"He didn't have any that anyone knew of."

"What about this?" Mark asked, using the sleeve of his jacket to pick up the photograph on the desk. It was picture of three men, all about the same age. The one in the middle was Wilson Packard.

"Apparently, they were his co-founders of the research company," Steve explained, having already asked the gardener about the photo. "They haven't been seen here since he retired, but," he added, knowing where that statement would take his dad's suspicions, "Since he had a photo of them on his desk I think we can say they were still amicable with each other."

"Even so," Mark frowned, "I think we should contact them. They may know who might have that much of a grudge against him that they'd resort to murder."

---

Mark and Steve walked only two paces out of the lift before they were accosted by Jesse and Ellie.

"We heard about what happened?" Jesse said, trying to keep a cool demeanour to show Ellie how he handled this kind of stuff all the time. Unfortunately he couldn't quite keep the telltale excitement from his voice.

She shook her head, positively bubbling, "I've never even seen a scorpion sting, let alone a death from one."

Mark looked a little put out by their interruption. He'd only just met Steve in the lift, had a number of questions to ask him about what the forensics team had found and had to see Amanda about the autopsy.

"I've seen a couple," he said briefly, "But never a fatality."

"But he was murdered, right?" Jesse said, almost hopefully, "I mean, they were planted in his drawer so he'd get stung. And there were plenty of them to make sure they finished the job."

"Did you find out what species they are?" Ellie asked.

Steve shook his head looking slightly harried, "The guy down at the zoo who's an expert on these things is away until tomorrow."

"Oooh!" Ellie said eagerly, "I can help you with that. A friend of mine from college is married to a guy who works with these sort of things in San Diego. If you have a picture I could fax it to him and see what he knows."

Steve looked a little surprised and slightly hesitant. But eventually he nodded, pulling a picture from the folder he was carrying, "Go. Knock yourself out."

Ellie took the photo with a smile.

Jesse, not to be out done, added, "And I could look on the net for anything. It's amazing the stuff you can find online now. Did you know if you had to you could get all you need to know about doing a heart bypass?"

"No, I didn't," Steve said, clearly not interested, "Just the stuff about the scorpions will do, Jess."

"Yes," Mark said with just a little relief, "You two work on that and tell us what you find later."

They both half bounced down the corridor.

"This is so cool," they heard Ellie enthuse, "We're actually solving a real murder."

Jesse grinned, "Just wait until we know who the guy is, then it'll really hot up."

"Will there be car chases?" Ellie asked, "Can I drive?"

"Sure," Jesse said, "But I've seen your driving and will certainly not be getting in there with you. I'll wait here to patch up the victims."

"Why?" she teased, "Can't handle a fast woman?"

With that, they were out of earshot.

Steve shook his head, "Just remember that I was the one that told you it was a bad idea to put those two together."

Mark chuckled, "I'll bear that in mind." Then his face turned a little more serious, "Why didn't you want Ellie to look into those scorpions?"

Steve looked at his dad thoughtfully for a moment. Was he really so easy to suss out or did the man just have some kind of sixth sense?

"It's not that I don't trust her or anything," Steve said, trying to make the comment a little off hand, "But do you realise the amount of times you, Jesse and Amanda have been kidnapped, injured, attacked, threatened or nearly killed since you started helping me?"

Mark smiled wanly, "I think I'd be happier not knowing."

"A part of me just thinks it'd be better for her to stay out it, that's all," Steve said, fixing his eyes on the corridor ahead.

"You'd probably have to tie her down to do that," Mark chuckled, "And you know what happened last time you tackled her."

Steve shot him a look. It wasn't his fault a five foot four woman had knocked him backwards with a square punch to the jaw. She'd taken him by surprise.

"She's proved herself quite capable of looking after herself, Steve," he added, comfortingly, "There's no need to feel responsible for her - or any of us. Besides, I think she has a bit of a grounding influence on Jesse which can only be a good thing."

"Really?" Steve asked with a surprised smile, "What does she have that the rest of us don't?"

Mark shrugged, "A good right hook and a mean glare."

They walked a few paces more before Mark got back on track.

"So, did you find anything at Wilson Packard's house?"

"Only the piece of wood that was jammed in the mechanism to stick it, meaning he'd have to put his hand inside without seeing what was in there."

Mark nodded, having expected they'd find as much, "Any fingerprints?"

"No, and the forensics guys dusted the place from top to bottom," Steve said with a frustrated sigh.

Not wanting his son to get too wound up, Mark grinned and asked, "I don't suppose you've tried the scorpions?"

"How do you get fingerprints off of an insect?" Steve asked, looking at him dryly, "And who's gonna get close enough to try?"

"I don't know," Mark said with an easy shrug, "Have you interrogated them yet?"

"Oh, ha ha, Dad."

Steve was spared any more of his father's brand of humour as they entered the path lab. The body was lying on a slab in the middle of the room, covered by a sheet. Amanda was sitting at her desk looking over some test results.

"Ah," she said, looking up as they entered, "I'm glad you two are here. You wouldn't believe what the blood screen showed."

She handed it to Mark and he flicked through it. All ten pages of it.

"Wow," Steve said, "I take it this venom isn't simple stuff."

"Not in the slightest," Amanda said shaking her head, "And it's potent too. The tests found biogenic amines, enzymes, salts, a couple unidentified substances and numerous toxins of two distinct types. One of those was identified as chactoids which cause strong vasoconstriction and a lot of pain. The other was buthidaes which affect electrolyte balance and cause heart failure, nerve transmission inefficiency and decreased cell membrane integrity, as well as a number of other effects which would have been apparent if he'd lived long enough."

"So he died of heart failure," Steve confirmed, not wanting to admit that most of that had gone right through him. He hoped he'd picked up on the most important point.

"It seems likely," Mark said with a nod, still glancing over the report, "This is very nasty stuff. More toxic than most poisons we usually run into, but he may have had a chance if he'd only been stung once."

"Do we know exactly what they were yet?" Amanda asked, curiously.

"Jesse and Ellie are looking into it," Steve said in an offhand manner, "But I can't see how that's gonna be much help."

"Well, it could possibly give us some idea about the killer," Mark reasoned, not giving up hope on that line of enquiry just yet, "He would have to have gotten them from somewhere and knowing the species may narrow down the possibilities."

Steve was about to concede defeat with that point when his cell phone rang and he answered it with a business-like, "Sloan."

He spoke to the person on the other end for a few moments while Mark and Amanda waited patiently.

"Well, you'll never guess what Wilson Packard's research company specifically investigated," he said with a suspicious look as he finished his call.

They both shrugged.

"The possible uses of plant and animal venoms in medicine."

Mark's expression immediately turned thoughtful, "So whoever murdered him obviously thought it'd be some kind of poetic justice that he die that way."

"Or," Steve countered, "It was an enemy at work who had access to those things."

"But if it was something to do with work," Mark said shaking his head, not buying that, "Why would it come out now? Years after he retired."

"I don't know," Steve admitted, "Which is why we're tracking down his two partners. They both retired at the same time and they're proving a little elusive. I'm gonna go and call in at the research lab, see if anyone there knows their whereabouts."

"And I'm gonna get on with this autopsy," Amanda said.

"And-" Mark began before his pager went off, he took it out and checked the number with a smile, "It's the ICU. It seems that duty calls. I'll be around if you find anything."

They all headed off to their separate tasks, Mark frowning thoughtful as he rode the lift up. He was sure that the means of death meant something. It was a messy and unpredictable way of killing someone. Whoever had done it had taken a risk in doing so and that convinced Mark that it was important. If only he could figure out why.

---


	2. Part Two

Steve retreated to the doctors lounge to finally eat a rather belated lunch. Although a large portion of fries couldn't really be considered lunch. As far as he was concerned it was more of a snack. Still, it would have to do. He'd had a really busy morning, and in twenty minutes, he was meant to be at Toxi-Care, Wilson Packard's old research company. Just enough time for him to throw this down and get there with seconds to spare.

Mark, who was taking a rare break, looked at him with raised eyebrow. "I trust that isn't all you're eating."

Steve shrugged, "I'll make up for it later."

He first mouthful was interrupted however as Jesse and Ellie entered the lounge, clearly having been looking for him.

"Hey," Jesse said as a greeting to both him and Mark. Without any concern for Steve's lunch, he laid a series of papers on the table. Intrigued, Mark came and looked to see what they had found.

"I faxed my friend's husband that picture," Ellie said, "And he managed to identify it." She tapped on one of the pieces of paper. Steve leant over to read it.

"Bu-.....Buth-.....Buthi....", he struggled before Ellie, her medical education giving her an advantage with the Latin, rescued him.

"Buthidae androctonus australis," she read with consummate ease, "Commonly known as the Fat Tailed Scorpion, it is very dangerous due to it's potent venom and unusual aggression."

"The thing is," Jesse picked up, consulting one of the numerous sheets he had printed out, "It's only found in the Middle East and North Africa where it is attributed to numerous deaths, but these are mainly in children and the elderly. And it only usually injects about 0.6mg of venom when it stings, which wouldn't be enough to kill a healthy man as quickly as it did Wilson Packard."

"But," Ellie added, "Amanda said the autopsy tox screen showed at least four or five times this amount which was just enough to do the job."

Mark nodded, quickly taking this in, "And that tells us two things about the killer."

"Oh yeah?" Steve asked, struggling to find his fries under Jesse's print outs.

"Well, for one, he must have access to some sort of private collection of these non-native animals," Mark reasoned.

Ellie nodded in agreement, "Such as the Toxi-Care company, who are licensed to keep them."

Mark and Steve looked at her questioningly.

"He's right," she said, indicating Jesse, "It is amazing what you can find on the internet."

"You said two things, dad," Steve prompted, not wanting them to get too waylaid.

"Yes, well the killer must have known that a relatively fit man such as Wilson Packard would survive a single scorpion sting long enough to get help. It suggests that he had some kind of expertise to know he'd need that many."

"Not necessarily," Steve pointed out, "Jesse found out all he needed to know in one morning on the internet."

"True," Mark conceded, "But you also have to consider the fact that he would have needed to know how to handle them. I'm sure he knew exactly what he was doing. Which narrows down our list of subjects."

"To, say, one of the workers at Toxi-Care?" Ellie suggested.

Mark smiled slightly. She had a sharp mind. Despite Steve's reservations - born out of concern for her safety rather than for her abilities - Mark had a feeling she was already getting the hang of this. She reminded a little of Jesse with her enthusiasm and bright manner, but she also had a hint of Amanda's sensible head. As well as a sometimes icy tongue which was all her own. It seems the good feeling he'd had about her had been right.

Steve glanced at the clock as he stood up, "Well, I'll see if I can find out. I'm due down there now."

"Ooo," Jesse said with longing, noticing his fries, "Are you eating those?"

"Don't suppose you fancy donating them to 'the-doctors-skipped-lunch-to-help-you-with-your-case' fund?" Ellie added, hopefully.

Steve sighed, unable to resist their two pleading faces, "Be my guest."

Mark smiled. Steve had had always been the least immune of all of them to Jesse's puppy dog look. Combine that with Ellie's seemingly practiced 'lost little girl' eyes and he didn't stand a chance. Poor Steve. Mark had a feeling they were going to run rings around him.

---

Toxi-Care was all Steve expected it to be - white, clean, sterile and efficient. The white coated scientists who worked there looked at him as if he were some sort of alien invading their world as Doctor Lian Chang lead him through on a small tour of their facility.

Dr Chang was apparently a highly respected expert in her field, but to Steve she was just a woman with a sharp attitude who wasn't listening to him.

"Detective Sloan," she said, as they walked, "I understand your concerns, really I do, but as you're about to see we take the up most precautions when it comes to security. We wouldn't want any of this getting out."

Although it was debatable as to whether she meant the deadly animals or the highly valuable research they did here.

There was something distinctly patronising about her tone which really made Steve dislike her. He was used to the fact that he wasn't always the smartest guy around. He wouldn't ever categorise himself as dumb, but he was used to being in the company of four highly qualified doctors. He knew however that they all recognised that Steve's experience and skills as a detective were just as important as their academic knowledge. Dr Chang however seemed to believe that anyone without at least one PhD was as dumb as a door post and therefore hardly worth her attention.

"I'm sure you do," he said, a little tersely, "But that doesn't change the fact that one of your former executives was apparently murdered by animals that you keep on the premises. Coincidences like that make me come over all suspicious."

She glared at him slightly, clearly annoyed at the accusation, "The staff here are all dedicated and very good at their jobs. Not to mention the fact that we screen them all before we decide to employ them. We understand the potential risks, Detective."

"Yeah, well in my experience faking yourself a new identity isn't all that difficult," Steve pointed out.

He was sure he saw Dr Chang roll her eyes as she stopped to show him the door they had just arrived at.

"This is where we keep our animals," she explained, "This door cannot be opened without a key card and a password. Security is always alerted as to when someone goes in there and they watch on monitors to keep an eye on what goes in and out. The movement of each animal is individually logged. They can't just disappear without us knowing."

"What about those?" he asked, his sharp eyes already having spotted a less secure area.

Turning, Dr Chang looked towards what Steve was indicating. In a laboratory behind them, several scientists were working on a number of animals, including some familiar looking scorpions.

"That is one of our genetic modification laboratories," she explained in an offhand manner.

"And what do they do in there?" Steve asked, crossing his arms over his chests. When people used evasive terms like that, he tended to think they had something to hide.

Dr Chang sighed, seemingly irritated by having to explain, "Whilst the creatures we work with are indeed highly venomous, they only produce a small amount of the venom. To make our work more efficient, we have a team who work on genetically altering the animals so they produce greater quantities."

"So you're making already deadly creatures more dangerous," Steve confirmed.

"You needn't be concerned, Detective," she said, seeing the disapproval in his face, "Those animals never leave that lab. It's secure."

It all seemed very tight, but Steve wasn't convinced. He didn't have any evidence to back up his suspicions though so he guessed he'd just have to leave it for now.

Looking at her sceptically, making it quite clear that he wasn't satisfied yet, Steve pulled out the photo they had found on Wilson Packard's desk.

"Do you know who these two men are?" he asked, pointing to Packard's companions.

Dr Chang peered at the photo and nodded, "That's Dr Munroe and Dr Edison. They co-founded this company with Dr Packard. They both retired about the same time he did."

"Can you tell me where they are now?"

"Isn't it your job to find them?" she asked, walking off without waiting for him.

Two large strides later Steve was alongside her again, "We could. But it'd be easier if you just told us."

Dr Chang looked a little annoyed, as if being helpful was the last thing she wanted to do. "I believe we have contact numbers for them somewhere," she said coolly, "They like to keep abreast of what is happening in the company."

"Good," Steve said, "Then let's go and get them and I'll get out of your hair."

"Good," Dr Chang replied, with as much venom as one of her scorpions.

---

"Wow", Jesse said quietly as he and Mark got out of the car, "I think I'm in the wrong profession."

Alan Munroe's house certainly was an impressive sight. Jesse could fit about ten of his tiny apartment in there and still have room to spare for a couple of BBQ Bobs.

"Well don't go abandoning us just yet, will you Jess," Mark chuckled.

"Aw, don't worry," he said, smiling himself as he patted Mark on the shoulder, "When I'm rich and famous I'll make sure I look out for the little guys who helped me get there."

"Oh yes?" Mark said, his smile widening, "And how do you intend making your fortune?"

"Well, I still haven't given up hope on Doctor Bob's Flaming BBQ Sauce," he said in his best Texan accent.

"Really?" Mark asked with a laugh, "Well I wouldn't give up your day job just yet. Nor would I let Steve hear you calling him 'one of the little guys'."

Jesse grinned in return.

Reaching the door, Mark pressed on the buzzer, and in a few moments they were greeted by a curt, "Yes?"

"Hello," Mark said, his usual pleasant demeanour not affected by the gruff welcome. It took more than that to ruffle him. "It's Dr Mark Sloan. I called you earlier about Wilson Packard's death."

A buzzer sounded and the door opened. Mark and Jesse shared a curious glance before walking in.

"In here," came a voice from the second room off of the smart hallway.

Jesse looked at Mark with slight trepidation, "Ever got the feeling you're not wanted?"

Dr Alan Munroe turned out to be a tall, thin, angular man with a definite hawk like appearance about him. He reminded Jesse of a particular chemistry teacher he'd had at college. The man had seemed to be able to bare no other expression except a vicious scowl and despised anyone with a bright and sunny disposition. Which meant that he really hated Jesse. If he hadn't have been so desperate to become a doctor, he might've dropped the subject altogether.

"Which one of you is Sloan?" Munroe asked, switching his eyes rapidly from one of them to the other, giving them an irritated once over.

"I am," Mark said, still smiling as he took the man's hand and shook it without waiting for an invitation to do so.

Munroe looked ever so slightly put out by the gesture, but instead turned his glare on Jesse, "Then who's this?"

Seeing Jesse looking a little uncertain about the whole thing, Mark answered for him.

"This is Dr Jesse Travis. He's assisting me in investigating Dr Packard's death."

Munroe eyed at them suspiciously, "Why are a couple of doctors investigating a murder?"

"I'm a consultant with the police department," Mark explained, "My son is the detective in charge of this case."

"And you want to talk to me about Packard" Munroe added, seemingly accepting Mark's answer.

"Yes," Mark said, sitting down opposite Munroe, whilst Jesse hovered a few feet away, "I understand that yourself, Dr Packard and Dr Edison founded the Toxi-Care company."

Munroe snorted a laugh as he stood, seemingly uncomfortable with being on even terms with Mark, "Yeah, well you wouldn't think it if you'd seen the way they treated us."

"Excuse me?" Mark asked, wanting that clarified.

"What'd they tell you?" Munroe asked bitterly, "That we retired? That's what they liked to call it - saying we were forced out isn't good PR."

Jesse frowned at him noting how angry the guy was. That could certainly be a motive for murder.

"Forced out?" he asked, wondering when he'd become so suspicious of everyone.

"We founded that company," Munroe said viciously, "And after all the sacrifices we had made to get it up and running, to keep it going....When the board of investors decided they wanted fresh blood at the helm, Packard and Edison just let them buy them off." He shook his head in disgust, making no effort to hide his feelings, despite Packard's recent demise.

"Well, not to be too finer point on it," Jesse said, treading cautiously, "But so did you from what we've heard."

Mark smiled at this. Jesse had learnt so much in the years since he'd joined them. As well as being one of the finest doctors he had had the pleasure of training, he was also turning into a very good detective. He'd always been smart enough to be able to follow the clues and find leads, but he'd now learnt how to talk to the people too - to get the most out of them.

"I wanted to fight," Munroe justified angrily, turning on Jesse with a piercing glare, "But they just gave in. What other choice did I have? I couldn't fight them alone."

Despite Munroe's abrasive attitude, Mark couldn't help but feel sorry for him. To have something you'd worked so hard for snatched away like that must be very hard. And to be forced to walk away when you didn't want to...It was Mark's fear that someday the hospital board may force retirement on him and he felt a certain amount of empathy for Munroe's situation.

"Did you have any contact with Dr Packard since you left Toxi-Care?" Mark asked quietly.

Munroe shook his head, a little less angry at the mention of his former colleague, "I haven't spoken to either of them in two years, so I can't really help you."

"Can you think of anyone who'd have enough of a grudge against Dr Packard to want to kill him?" Jesse asked, moving a little further in the room as his confidence grew once more.

"He was murdered?" Munroe asked, looking genuinely taken back by the news, "Hell, I knew he was dead, but no one told me what happened." He was quiet for a few moments, the anger in his face having calmed slightly, but still present.

"The only people I know who would have a grudge against him would be Toxi-Care themselves," he said suggested, "because they have to keep paying us for using the name." His stony face took on a slightly remorseful tone, "I'm sorry for what happened to Wilson. He was a good enough guy." Then the stone set in again, "Now, I have some business to attend to."

When Mark and Jesse didn't move he glared at them.

"You can leave now," he prompted.

As they got back to Mark's car, Jesse shook his head, "They were right. Apparently money doesn't buy you happiness."

"Nor, it seems, manners," Mark added ruefully.

Jesse had a thoughtful frown on his face as they got in, "He was pretty bitter towards his partners. Do you think he's a suspect?"

"I don't know," Mark admitted, "He seemed sincerely shocked and sorry about what happened to Munroe."

"What about all that stuff he said about Toxi-Care?" Jesse asked, "He was pretty convinced that they were involved."

Mark shook his head, "I'm not sure. From what I know they don't exactly need the money. It doesn't seem likely they'd do something like this just to save money."

"Then who did kill Wilson Packard?"

Mark smiled, "Good question."

---

Dr Julian Edison was the diametric opposite of his partner Dr Munroe. Warm, open, polite and friendly. And very upset by his friend's death. Amanda and Ellie were being as patient as they could with him, comforting him as much as they could, but they had been sent here to do a job and Steve was waiting to know what they found.

"I understand this is a difficult time," Amanda said gently, as she and Ellie sat opposite Edison, "But we wanted to ask you a few questions about Dr Packard."

"I just can't believe someone would have a bad word to say about him, let alone kill him," Edison said with a bewildered shake of his head, "He was a good man and a dedicated scientist. He never hurt anyone."

"But even the nicest guy can make enemies, right?" Elle said suggestively, trying to jog him into telling them something useful. Patience never was one of her virtues. "If you can think of anyone who may have had a grudge against Dr Packard you could help catch his killer."

Edison sighed, looking slightly hesitant.

Amanda and Ellie shared a curious look.

"Dr Edison," Amanda prompted, when nothing was forthcoming, "Whatever you know may be important."

He nodded, seeing her point. "It's probably nothing," he said a little dismissively, as though he didn't want to get anyone in trouble, "but about seven years ago we received some threats."

"Threats?" Amanda asked, sitting up a little straighter as her interest was suddenly peaked.

"An animal rights group found out about our research and we got some letters," Edison explained, a little nervously, "Threats and abuse." He shrugged his shoulders with a rueful smile, "Kind of an occupational hazard in our line of work. The stupid thing is, I like animals. If I thought we were doing anything cruel I would've stopped it. They didn't believe that of course."

"What happened?" Ellie asked.

"Nothing," Edison said simply, "We took the letters to the police who made a couple of arrests. We didn't have any more trouble after that."

They chatted for a few more minutes about what he knew about Packard's personal life, finding out nothing interesting before they left.

"Are you thinking what I am?" Amanda asked

"Well if you're thinking that an animal rights group might see it as justice that he died at the hands-"

"Claws," Amanda corrected.

"Claws of the creatures they believed he was torturing," Ellie continued, "Then yes - I'm thinking exactly what you are."

"We should talk to Steve," Amanda said decisively. A few paces later she carefully broached subject she'd been trying to bring up since they'd left the hospital.

"Elle," she said hesitantly, "I know I shouldn't really be asking this but....well, Steve and Jesse - have they been talking about my birthday?

"Yeah..." Elle said slowly, wondering what she was getting at.

"Okay," Amanda said quietly, "Don't tell them I asked, but do you what they're getting me?"

"And people call me impatient," Ellie said with a curiously raised eyebrow.

Amanda smiled a little sheepishly, "It's not that it's just....You know how much I love Steve and Jesse but they're just clueless when it comes to presents. Do you know what they got me last year?"

Ellie shook her head, "I'm guessing it wasn't something all fantastically stylish that you'd always wanted."

"A fishing rod," Amanda said with a dry look.

"A fishing rod?" Ellie laughed, "Have you ever used it?"

"Once," Amanda said, nodding as she broke out in a smile, "When my TV remote broke and I couldn't be bothered to get up to press the buttons."

"Well don't worry. You'll be rod-free this year," Ellie said, reassuringly, "Mark told them not to buy anything without passing it by him or me first."

Amanda gave her a gratefully relieved look, "Thank you. You have no idea how hard it is to try and look enthusiastic when someone gives you fishing gear."

"Oh I don't know," Ellie grinned, "My last boyfriend was a car fanatic. You should've seen some of the stuff he brought me."

"I shudder to think."

"I got own back in the end though," she said with a predatorily satisfied look, "When he ran off to Pittsburgh with a girl I worked with I sold his classic Plymouth and brought myself a whole new wardrobe."

Amanda opened her mouth in shock, "You're mean....", she grinned, "I love it."

---


End file.
